


i'll explain the infinite

by zelounors



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Bottom Zayn, Cheating, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Multi, Phone Sex, Polyamory, Top Louis, Top Zayn, fuzzy boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:24:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5679556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelounors/pseuds/zelounors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zayn loves louis. louis loves eleanor. eleanor has an idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll explain the infinite

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this in january of 2015. before, you know. everything happened. i've stopped and started writing it countless times since then, because i knew parts of it would be in bad taste. it's now written as if 1) elounor never broke up 2) zerrie never broke up and 3) zayn never left the band. not meant to be offensive to anyone, esp little mix fans !! perrie didn't deserve this
> 
> PLEASE note the cheating tag. thank U luv u
> 
> title from saturn by sleeping at last

sweat clings to louis’ forehead. they’re in australia. it’s hot, lights out, doors closed, thick drapes closed over windows. the only light in the room is from the television, the simpsons lighting them up yellow, and the quick light from zayn’s green skull lighter.

louis doesn’t like to sit here like this. he likes to sit, and he likes to smoke, but he doesn’t like to stuff blankets into the cracks under the door that might let more light in, doesn’t like to hide away because he feels like he doesn’t have to hide away when they’re together like this. but that’s because he’s louis-- he’s a creature of fucking light, one who can walk on stage with a bottle of vodka disguised as a water bottle tucked under his armpit, can call his girlfriend when he’s feeling homesick, then tuck himself into zayn’s bed, kissing at his thighs until he opens up.

zayn reluctantly hates that it’s so easy for him, hates that louis finds his spot at zayn’s side so easily after they go back on tour. how he breaks down every single safeguard that zayn tries to erect to protect the sanctity of his impending marriage, tries to honour his future bride by not having sex with his best friend, but it happens anyway. louis doesn’t have to do anything; zayn just wants him there. and when they’re done, eleanor is there to take louis back.

it’s not like that with perrie. and god knows, zayn’s in love with her. but zayn can never be louis, can never look this girl who he loves in the eye and tell her that he’s been screwing around while on tour and get her blessing. maybe it’s a louis and eleanor thing. maybe it’s a system that they’ve poked and prodded at until it gave space to both of them. louis’ always been one for conquering his own destiny; maybe he’s just better than zayn at this.

so when zayn and louis fuck, it’s dark and it’s under the illusion of secrecy and it’s because zayn insists on this. zayn needs it like this. and when they’re done and louis is asleep, zayn will check and see his phone lit up with messages from his fiance, and he’ll ignore the rotting feeling in his gut and clench his teeth.

zayn wakes up that next morning and their room is not dark; it’s bright and it’s filled with voices. the door between his and niall’s room is ajar, and he can hear niall’s loud laughter mixed with the clatter of dishes. niall’s got ac/dc playing, sounding garish and ugly this early in the morning, and zayn wants louis to get up and close the door. his head hurts, something from the smoke still coating every surface of the room.

and when he wakes properly up, when he's gone to join them, he’s not surprised to find eleanor there, perched elegantly on the table, feet resting on louis sitting below her. they look up when zayn slumps in, three bright pairs of eyes. niall brandishes a plate. “want an egg? made it meself.”

“ordered it yourself,” eleanor counters. her eyes are warm, and she smiles up at zayn. “just got in with soph. it’s her birthday.”

zayn mumbles something similar to a happy birthday, avoiding looking directly at the girl. his gaze falls on louis, who is wearing the shirt that zayn wore the night before. zayn’s throat feels tight.

eleanor never minds that he doesn’t keep eye contact with her. still treats him as she treats niall, or liam, or even harry. there’s just something inside of him that is bewildered by all of it; something in him that makes him unable to meet her gaze. it's the same part that still can’t believe that he’s living the life that he’s living even though he’s been living it for years now. he’d always thought that the world worked in a certain way, and that you could not cheat the way the world worked that they all had a destiny, a set path in life, that you sat down and took what life handed you, and that boys like him couldn't be living in hotels and selling out arenas. and that you grew up and found a person-- a single person-- who you loved and wanted to be with, and you would be with them. only them. but eleanor and louis loved each other a whole fucking lot, were more in love with each other than anyone he knew, but she still had no problem with louis and zayn’s relationship.

zayn still hadn’t told perrie. that’s what made the fleeting hope of having perrie and louis both spoil and decay up in the air, though he loved them both. louis told eleanor right away. zayn couldn’t. knew that she wouldn’t stay, even if he had been honest from the start.

he sits with them, not eating, just blinks the sleep out of his eyes as they chat about their plans. liam’s got a yacht, wants to bring them all out on it. zayn declines, doesn’t feel much like socialization when he’s got to see eleanor and louis together. their movements are involuntarily cohesive, revolving around the other in perfectly coordinated rhythm. it makes zayn’s hands feel clumsy and his feet feel like lead: he’d never been very awkward with his body, but around them he felt like he could be.

he blinks back sleep. he can’t sleep without thinking about his messy romantic life, but it’s better than what it was before. zayn remembers the uan tour, remembers tmh. remembers meeting and falling in love with perrie whilst simultaneously becoming more and more distressed over his lust for louis.  
he spent a lot of time thinking about the specifics on how louis would kiss him, if louis were ever so inclined.

he liked to think about-- liked to think about desire. frantic, overwhelming passion that made him lose his head and dash across the room, throwing his mouth onto his so fast and so hard that it would hurt but it doesn't. thinks about kissing louis so good that louis never wants to stop kissing him, thought about locking themselves up into a hotel room and never stopping because they've got no other place to be but there.

he would think about his mouth, lips quick and pink, tongue darting out to lick, to moisten. oh, his tongue. how he'd like to feel that tongue on him now.  
he’d thought about louis' tongue, and louis' lips, and louis' mouth, and about louis touching him and he thought about louis kissing him places where he'd really, really enjoy louis kissing him. and it made his chest feel tight and it makes his cheeks go warm when he does, because he's thinking about louis between his legs while they're sleeping on the same bus, in adjoining bunks, and there's a huge part of him that made him feel like the absolute worst person in the world for thinking about it at all. in the daytime, when the sun was shining in, zayn thought about kissing louis. in the night, he thought about fucking him.

he hadn’t known what he'd want more, to fuck louis, or to have louis fuck him. sometimes, it'd been fucking louis that kept him up. thought about how pretty he is, how nice his eyelashes look when he's under him, mouth wide, gasping with zayn's cock buried deep in his ass. thinks about louis' thighs wrapped around his hips, ankles tight behind his back. or maybe louis' on his hands and knees, ass high up in the air, falling onto his elbows at zayn taking him from behind. thought about kissing the back of his neck, hair at the base of his head wet from perspiration. he thought about leaving louis breathless, thought about him with no words in his throat, nothing smart to say except his name, calling out "zayn yes!" and "zayn please!". thought about fucking him until he comes hard, comes inside of his best friend, then thought some more about come dripping out of his ass.

but then other nights, it was the other way around, and it was louis fucking him. and he'd never been fucked before, never done anything close to that with another man, but he thought that it'd be alright. louis knows him better than he knows himself, and louis would know exactly what he needed, when he needed it. he'd know how to gently finger him open, know how to take it slow, know how to kiss his hipbones and grip his thighs so tight that his skin is white around his fingers. then he'd know how to enter him, and he'd do it so sweetly, so gently, that zayn wouldn't even notice when he starts to go a bit harder. push a bit deeper, roll his hips to move his cock against his walls, not yet going fast but with purpose. it would hurt, and zayn's eyes would roll to the back of his head, and he'd love every filthy second of it, love letting someone fuck him. love it being his best friend.

and zayn would tug his cock into submission night after night after night like that, biting his lip tight because he's only ever been quiet during sex. for louis, he'd be loud. louis would coax the noise out of his throat, he always had. louis taught him to be more daring, more rambunctious, and he knew for certain that the older man's own loudness did not disappear in the bedroom.

he’d spent so much time obsessing over this, over the tiniest of details, that he’d thought himself into a corner where he couldn’t possibly approach louis. couldn’t tell him how he felt because he’d made how he felt to be a part of his identity, practically. it made him more and more useless as time went on, distancing himself slightly from everyone around him, at some point kissing and fucking perrie only half there, because he couldn’t stop. and then one night when he and louis sat together after a show, watching a movie alone on bus 1, zayn had set his beer aside and forced the words out of his mouth. i want you, it’s shit, i’m shit, i’m sorry, don’t hate me, please don’t leave me, please.

louis had just blinked. why would i hate you? he’d asked.

zayn hadn’t known what to say. he had a girlfriend. they were best friends. they both had girlfriends.

louis laughed. laughed? told him he’d let him kiss him, if he wanted to. zayn really wanted to. so zayn did, and it wasn’t as good as he’d built it up in his head to be, but it was still good. it was louis, louis’ lips on his, stubble on his chin, tasting like beer and something intrinsically louis. they parted, louis laughed again. this time, zayn joined him.

after that they kissed all the time. kissed before shows, kissed after shows. on the bus, in hotels, in their bunks, quickly in front of the boys, away from the boys. liam, harry and niall never asked questions, never made it out to be something more than they needed it to be. looked the other way, didn’t push zayn and louis for answers that they didn’t feel much like answering. zayn appreciated it, couldn’t handle the way lou would look at him when she did his makeup and needed to cover love bites on his throat when she knew he hadn’t seen perrie for weeks.

conversations with perrie weren’t awkward. but there were tangible moments of tenseness, moments that wanted to draw his blood. zayn obsessed over it, even more so than he obsessed over kissing louis. how would he tell her? could he even do it? did she know? did eleanor know? zayn wasn’t sure that he wanted to know.

he eventually brought it up, couldn’t hold it in any longer. asked louis about eleanor, asked if they were okay.

“why wouldn’t we be?” louis replied brightly. “not everyone is as old-fashioned about this as you are.”

zayn was bewildered, and a little bit angry. here he was, keeping himself up all night agonizing over his infidelity, he’d only just assumed that louis was doing the same thing. he didn’t know that they were doing different things. didn’t know that they were allowed. “you mean, you told her?”

louis surveyed him, eyes becoming suddenly sharp, speculative. “haven’t you?”

//

"i’d stop if she asked us to, you know.” zayn mumbles into the dark, words seeking louis’ ear.

he can only see the outline of louis’ face, of his shoulders shifting as he moves up the bed closer to him. “but she won’t. she wants to--”

"what?”

“never mind. kiss me.”

//

sometimes, he pushes. he has to, you know? when things start weighing too heavily on him, when he starts to think about the repercussions of his actions-- oh god, what have i done-- all that is left to do is push. push for more intimacy with louis, with perrie, with whoever will have him.

sometimes they’ll go out to parties, to nightclubs, to dorm rooms, and zayn will be there and louis will be somewhere in the room and perrie will be back in the uk. and zayn will see a girl and that girl will catch his eye and he’ll walk over and say hello and they’ll start talking. or they’ll dance, bodies close together, dancing with drinks in their hands because this is the oh god situation where he needs that drink in his hand. and at some point she’ll stop talking and look at him, or she’ll stop dancing and press up against him. either way, she’ll be whispering in his ear, murmuring something about finding somewhere dark and quiet where they can get off.

zayn’s so tired of being in the dark. so tired of being quiet.

he’ll think about it. think, why not? he’s already a liar, a cheat, a bastard with no loyalty, why not go with her? why not? why not?

but then, he doesn’t do it. all the build up, all of the contact, all for nothing. because perrie’s in the uk, but louis’ in the room, and even if louis weren’t in the room he still wouldn’t do it. he’s a piece of shit for it. he knows. is perrie not worth being loyal to, but louis is? or is he loyal to perrie, but with the exception of louis?

regardless. he doesn’t do it. he’ll dance, he’ll do his bit of harmless flirting, but then he’ll make his way back to louis. louis will be drunk, pink cheeked and alive, and he’ll smile at him like he’s not what he is. a liar. a cheat. a bastard with no loyalty. he always does. always will.

//

it wasn't all bad with perrie. in his head, he made it up to be something tragic, broken, destined to fail, which made him hold on all the more. but it wasn't all doom and gloom. they loved each other. and while zayn's heart broke with the knowledge that this couldn't last without him being truthful with her, it didn't mean that he wasn't doing all he could to make sure she was happy and cared for for the time being.

they had fun together. perrie was an incredible person, full of life. she was quicker to smile than he was when they first met, but he thinks that she helped him become more comfortable in those regards. more confident.

she loved animals, and so did he, and subsequently their house was full of critters just running around. they'd be in bed, asleep, with a dog and two cats at their feet, and that wasn't the half of them.

it couldn’t last. he knew that it couldn’t last.

they’re on break, louis back in london, back in the home that he shares with eleanor, and zayn had flown to belfast to meet perrie with her bandmates.

she’d been delighted to see him, didn’t think that he would actually come. he’d missed her, he realized, as she was pulling him up to her hotel room, mouth set in a way that made zayn rather reluctant to follow. he loved her, and she loved him, and they would have sex then they’d sleep together-- then he would leave. he always had to leave, and he’d go back to louis. he didn’t want to fuck her like this anymore, could feel his conscience screaming at him, do it, do it now!

she shuts the door behind them, lock sliding into place decisively. pez smiles, eyebrows raised, body swaying as she moves closer to him. he loves her so goddamn much. has her image inked into his skin as proof. maybe he’d just wait a little longer. it would only end up hurting her. he didn’t want to hurt her. god, he didn’t want to hurt her.

“so,” she purrs. “what are we going to do now?” she reaches towards him, fingering the collar of his shirt. he loves her, but he can’t stop thinking about louis’ hands burning into his skin, touching him all over, tracing his initials with quick fingers. he’s surprised that perrie can’t see, still hasn’t seen, that he’s been marked by another.

"i’m in love with louis.” he blurts out. can’t look at her face. can’t look at her as she drops her hands, scalded. “we’ve had sex. for a long time now. i’m so sorry. i needed you to know. i can’t keep lying.”

silence. then, “you can’t keep lying? has it inconvenienced you? kept you up at night? must have been so terrible for you.”

then they fight. or, perrie shouts, zayn stares at the floor. he deserves it. she doesn’t say a single thing that’s not true; tells him he’s been a shit fiance, says he broke her trust, her heart, destroyed their relationship.

tears in her eyes, perrie turns to face the wall. he can see her chest heaving, keeping her voice from cracking. “that’s it then? you choose him?”

“pez,” his voice is low, urgent. his stomach is turning. he never intended for her to hurt this badly. “it doesn’t need to be him or you.”

she scoffs, loud in the quiet room. “yeah, it does. you can’t have us both.”

she turns her face, lashes dark over darker eyes. “you bastard, you can’t be that selfish.”

//

everything feels different without perrie.  
a part of him had been well aware that the chapter on their relationship had at least partially ended when zayn had sunk into louis' bed. the book had been finished when he realized he was in love with him, and all. but it was weird now, knowing that it was completely done, couldn't go back. door slammed in his face, no possibility of recovering from nearly two years of continued infidelity.

he's gonna have to move his stuff. he's gonna have to deal with their intertwined life when he got back to england. for now, he had tour, and a hotel room that louis may or may not be in, depending on if eleanor was visiting, to look forward to.

zayn put his head in his hands. eleanor was visiting now, all of them behind him, behind the closed doors of the hotel as zayn lurked on the balcony. he's been a bit of a bore lately, not socializing, or goofing off with the rest like he usually does. he's half hoping that louis will come out for a smoke with him, zayn's got his pack on the ledge beside him, but after three cigarettes, louis remains missing.

he hasn't told any of them about perrie. he'll have to, eventually; the papers would go mad over the news, and he needed to be the ones to tell them.

he tries to think about how sad he is. tries to ignore the sense of relief that has been growing in him since he got off the plane. tries to not think about that, because what kind of person is he if that’s what he’s feeling?

the door slides open. zayn turns, hopeful, but it's eleanor, and zayn steels himself up for her presence.

"hi," she says, sounding uncertain as to whether she should be there. "you should come inside with us. sophia's winning at mario party, and louis is sulking."

zayn snorts a quick, humourless laugh, and shakes his head. "not really feeling up for company tonight." he turns away, to lean back over the balcony ledge, hoping she got the hint.  
she doesn't seem to, because she walks out beside him, elbows on the stone ledge. she nudges her head toward the open box of cigarettes. "can i bum one?" zayn nods, trying his best to ignore her.

she takes one from the box, long pale fingers making the movement seem smooth, delicate. he watches as she puts it to her lip, other hand searching her pockets, her jacket for a light. her clothes ruffle against her skin, and zayn can see her tiny ribcage, the swell of her breasts under her button up, and he can't look away.

"here," he says suddenly, grabbing his own lighter from his back pocket. his mouth feels dry. she smiles appreciatively at him, leans over to present the cigarette, bitten softly between her lips. the dying light of the sun illuminates her, reflects colour in her eyes that he's never noticed, a muted gold hidden in soft brown. she's beautiful, he notes, for the millionth time since meeting her. if louis were to choose between him and eleanor, it would be her.

she takes a drag, pulling the cancerous smoke into her lungs. zayn's still watching her, but she's looked away, out over the the japanese cityscape, bright lights obscuring the approaching night sky. she waits, both of them sitting in silence, zayn still watching.

"perrie told me what happened," she says, and zayn looks away.

eleanor waits again, waits to see if zayn is going to volunteer anything. he doesn't, so she continues. "she called about an hour ago. wanted to tell me what you two were doing behind our backs." her voice drops, and he can hear a smile in her words. "told her i knew, and she hung up on me. was probably a bit mean, now i think of it. didn't know she didn't know, you know?"

zayn sighs, putting his head back in the hand not holding his cigarette. he feels sick. "did you, did you tell anyone?" did you tell louis?

"no," and he can't tell the tone of her voice, if she sounds condescending or pitying. "not my place to tell, is it?"

well, at least there was that. eleanor knew that perrie had dumped him, done a whole proverbial throwing of the ring, but at least she wasn't telling anyone. he feels clammy, cold despite the heat, but there's still enough normalcy in him to be appreciative. eleanor's sweet, something he'd always known, but had never wanted to acknowledge. she was kind where he knew himself to be greedy.

"i'm sorry,” eleanor murmurs. zayn’s very aware of her proximity, very aware of her hair falling in front of her face in soft waves, sun setting in the window behind her. “sorry louis got you involved in all of this. it works for us, but.”

zayn’s teeth grind. “you shouldn’t be the one apologizing. it should be me apologizing to you. i started all of this. i’m the selfish one.”

"it’s not selfish to fall in love,” eleanor shrugs. she idly scratches at her lip. “you don’t need to worry about upsetting me. it truly doesn’t bother me, zayn. but i'm still sorry that it ended that way with her. hope you're both alright."

his heart is breaking, but when he looks back over at her, the world has come to an abrupt standstill. "i..." he tries to get out the words to express what he's feeling, or any words at all, but he's drawing a blank. eleanor looks back at him, throat rising and falling with breath. he doesn't think that she was breathing this heavily a moment ago. makes his palms start sweating. "thank you."

she smiles. she reaches over, very hesitantly, and she places her small hand on his shoulder. it feels vital, somehow, a comfort he hadn't known that he'd desperately needed, but now that it was there he was appeased. she doesn't say anything more, just holds onto him, and after a moment, he leans his cheek onto her hand. they're quiet, and they watch the sun slip down behind the water. he's glad she's there.

//

he tries to make more of an effort to spend time with them all after that.

eleanor's visit to him on the balcony set something at ease in him that made him less nervous. not that he'd known he was. louis had always told zayn that eleanor was okay with them, but with the confirmation of that acceptance came a boldness in him that he hadn't expected.

eleanor was there, all the time now, on the sidelines, hiding away from prying eyes. zayn would watch her watching them, eyes drifting from their rehearsals, their performances, their meetings, down to her phone, then up to them again. they caught eye contact occasionally, and whenever she did zayn would always make a point to step a little closer to louis, to graze his hand just so, to put himself between the two, to see what she would do. he's not trying to be an asshole, just genuinely needed to know.

she had yet to take the bait. if there were even a bait to take. she seemed honestly, genuinely fine with it.

after that, zayn relaxed into their interactions, allowing his body to go limp and loose when she was in the room instead of walking away. it started to feel normal, if he could call it that, even when it was just the three of them, no buffer in between.

with eleanor done with school and accompanying them on tour, they had to make plans on louis' sleeping arrangements. zayn thought it was quite funny, divvying nights up for louis to sleep in his hotel room, and the nights where he and eleanor stayed in theirs.

zayn gets him mostly weeknights. mondays, tuesdays, wednesdays, then one day on the weekend, maybe. louis doesn't adhere well to the schedule, flits around from bedroom to bedroom, visiting zayn or eleanor on a whim. he likes to go to zayn when he's wound up, restless, ready to bolt. he's always full of energy, ready to get his anxieties worked out, whether through drugs or through really good sex.

whenever he's calm, he'll see eleanor. zayn's not sure if it bodes well for him or not. his louis seems like a unbroken stallion. eleanor's is like he's going home.

one tuesday, louis doesn't show. zayn was sure that he would, and he's feeling horny enough himself that he wanders through the hotel, seeking the older man. he doesn't want to go to the room eleanor's staying in, just in case louis had gone to see her. but after looking in the lobby, hotel bar, harry's room, liam's, and niall's with no result, he found himself with his fist ready to knock at her door.

she's wearing soft looking pajamas when she answers. "oh," she says, sounding surprised. "aren't you with lou tonight?"

"been looking for him," zayn looks at her face to avoid looking further down her body. she's half clothed, after all, strappy tank top on top with matching green shorts. "have you seen him?"

she purses her lips. "no," she admits, "but niall told me him and liam are going out tonight. louis probably went with them."

he immediately accepts this, sounding entirely possible. zayn hates it when they don't even ask if he wants to come with them clubbing. sure, he says no a good 98% of the time, but he'd still appreciate being asked. especially since he was supposed to get his dick sucked tonight.

he frowns, rolling his eyes. "didn't invite me. pricks."

she laughs, giggle twinkling in the air. he really likes her laugh, he realizes. "d'you wanna come in, then? i was just getting ready for bed, but i'd rather be not invited to fun clubbing together."

zayn snorts. "see i'm not the only one unappreciated." he probably shouldn't go in, but he does anyway.

eleanor's got the room set up for her. her suitcase is open on the large, plush armchair, clothes spilling out and creating a perimeter of laundry. their suite has a vanity, her makeup kit set up neatly at the mirror, and she moves to hover over it. “do you want to do something? we can get something to eat somewhere. just let me throw all this away.”

“nah,” he objects, settling himself down onto the bed, relaxing a bit. “rather just, i dunno. watch a movie? sound good, yeah?”

eleanor smiles. “yeah, sounds good.” she gestures to the television. “you pick, i’ll just finish up here.”

zayn picks something, a comedy that he puts on low volume. he’s already seen it, but eleanor keeps glancing over it, laughing to herself at the punchlines. zayn finds himself looking over at her, illuminated both by the light of the tv, and by the lamp she’s positioned right beside her face. she’s a makeup cloth in her hand, is dabbing at her eyes, smoothly wiping away makeup from her face. it doesn’t look like she’s wearing much, but the careful concentration with which she does it has him spellbound. she moves on to moisturizer, moving her long fingers in delicate circles, sucking her lips into her mouth.

she looks over at him once or twice, and zayn makes sure that he’s got his eyes on the tv every time. but she’ll look back at the mirror with a barely noticeable curl to her lip. louis sends a text not even halfway through the movie asking where he is, and when zayn says good night, and moves to leave the room, he can feel her eyes on the back of his head.

//

then they move on, like they always move on, and eleanor goes home. late nights and hours spent on airplanes with no time for girlfriends leave zayn at a bit of a loss. her near constant presence for the past few weeks has left it's mark: he's come to rely on her being there, even if it's just for a quick smoke on the balcony, sitting beside each other when louis' fucked off to do something else.

he comes to see her as more of a friend than an adversary. after all, if she and louis could accept their arrangement, why couldn't he?

her absence on tour troubled him. she had gone back to england, on the same flight as sophia.

he had stayed back when liam and louis had accompanied them to the landing strip where the jet would fly them home. he thought it might be strange to intrude upon the couple's final moments together, the last time they'd see each other for weeks.

eleanor kissed him on the cheek as she departed, bag hanging over her shoulder. zayn sat, with his fingers digging into the upholstery of the armchair, but he grins at her, sending well wishes with them as they left. louis pecked him quickly as well, darting after his girlfriend.

alone, zayn watched the doorway where the two had disappeared. he felt alone.

//

he wakes from his dream, bus having hit a bump in the road. zayn has brief flashes of brown hair, falling out of a tie. full, pink lips twisting up. makeup being removed.

his sudden movement rouses louis just enough that he groans. “y’kay?” he mumbles, voice deep with sleep.

“yeah, weird dream.”

"weird is good.” louis shifts, pulling zayn closer under his arm. exhales deeply. “go to sleep.”

zayn lets himself be held. thinks about eleanor.

//

zayn doesn’t spend all that much time with harry anymore. harry doesn’t spend all that much time with any of them, really. it wasn’t something that any of them minded. they all grew up and became less dependant on the others constant presence. harry’s got his big industry connections, a-list friends that he’s always tap tap tapping away on his phone, texting day and night. zayn knows that louis is a bit bitter about it; so is liam, if they’re honest. but zayn doesn’t mind, harry’s always been born for that kind of attention, always flitting around from person to person, like a bee to a flower. and besides, harry always comes back.

so when zayn finds himself alone with harry these days, he appreciates it all the more. and it’s just them, no phones, no nothing.

“how’re you and louis?” harry asks, and zayn almost recoils, despite their recent openness. harry and louis had always been similar in that aspect: harry couldn’t see why two people who like each other couldn’t get together if they wanted.

it’s that what makes him reply. he understood. harry’s peering at him thoughtfully, peeling the paper off of a bottle of water, night air blowing his hair out of place. zayn likes it grown out, all long curls, looking soft to the touch. reminds him of--

"weird,” he admits. knows that harry won’t judge him for it, but he finds himself reluctant to continue.

“weird?” the younger boy asks, all eyes. “is it…?” he raises his eyebrows, in what he probably thinks is significance, but zayn somehow understands.

zayn’s twirling the ring on his right hand round his finger, but when he notices he straightens out his hands. didn’t want to look nervous. “i mean, a bit?” he exhales a breath, scratches at his nose. “we always did it, because we wanted it, and we were okay with everything. it made sense. but now…”

harry cocks his head to the side. “now it doesn’t make sense?”

“no. yes. i don’t-- i don’t know.” a whisper of a headache presses at his temples. “nothing’s changed, it’s just me. you know?”

“you changed?”

“yes?”

harry waits, the moment standing between them making harry smile a bit. harry thinks a lot of shit things are funny.

when zayn doesn’t say anything, harry prods.

"what about you changed? this is all very mysterious.”

alarm bells are ringing in his ears. he doesn’t think that he should say anything. it’s not right, not his place. he’s already gotten so much, it’d be selfish to ask for anything more.

continues anyway. “i think.” he clears his throat. “think i want both of them.”

harry’s face shifts slowly, lips pulling up into a shit-eating grin.

//

it's louis who approaches the subject, curiously. zayn hadn't expected him to be so willing to introduce his nearly four year relationship to another partner, but zayn wasn't complaining.  
louis liked to talk a big game about being wild and young and free, but louis liked to nest. liked a warm place to call home, liked someone familiar to sleep next to. someone safe that made him feel comfortable. eleanor was that for louis. zayn looked around their master bedroom, plush and comfortable, and remembered again that louis wasn't exclusively his. remembered his talk with eleanor, and reminded himself that it was okay that he wasn't.

louis' unbuckling his belt, two of them just getting in from a meeting. it was something about tour, a conversation that had gone on and on as liam and harry asked more and more questions. it wasn't as if zayn were uninterested in touring. but there was only so long a man could discuss what way they walked up stage without wanting to off himself.

zayn sighs, not bothering to remove himself of any clothes, just collapses onto the bed.

eleanor's not there, on vacation in france with her uni friends. he wishes she were here, though he knew that he wouldn't be getting off tonight if she were.

"you think we're a bad couple?" louis asks, suddenly, and he flops onto the mattress beside him. he looks tired, bags under his eyes, and zayn wants to wipe away the bit of sleep that is in his tear duct.

zayn smiles wryly. "who, you and me? or you and eleanor?"

the man snorts. "us, twat. think we're good for each other?"

zayn shifts, turning onto his side so he can face his lover. his back cracks in the process. "what's brought this on?"

"well," louis begins, and he's resting his head on his hands, propped up on his elbow. "all we do as a couple is smoke and fuck and sleep. not that i'm complaining."

there's a sort of earnestness in louis that makes zayn's heart leap into his throat. it's quite endearing, and zayn presses a hand to louis' stubbled jaw, bright blue eyes blinking back at him. "you want to get brunch, or somewhat?"

louis rolls his eyes, looking amused. "not what i meant--"

"oh?" zayn's grinning now, and he rolls them over so he's looming over the older man, knees on either side of his waist. he's horny. "no brunch? alright, how about we go to our vacation home, hamptons are great this time of year."

"zayn," louis laughs, but zayn continues over him.

"wear matching sweaters, yeah? quit smoking, get those fags that mist out water?” he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but the idea of louis smoking an e-cig, nicorette patch on his forearm both delights and encourages him. “fuck every saturday night, missionary because that's the only position we know?"

"babe i was with you 'till the last one," louis smirks, and he's twisting his hips, trying to gain friction on zayn's body above him. zayn obliges, grinds down on the older man, feeling hot under the collar of his shirt. he takes it off, sitting up, and continuing his ministrations with his ass on louis' crotch.

"bet you could go for it," zayn goes on, voice low, crooning, and he's feeling daring tonight. "bet you'd love it, huh? you'd only get to split me open once a week, imagine how tight i'd be for you. only for you." louis' cock is hard under him, and he decides quickly, leaning down again to whisper in his ear. "let me ride you tonight, please." he wonders briefly what it was about being sexless and domestic appealed to them so much.

louis groans. "god, yes. get off then, hurry up."  
zayn scrambles off, removing himself of his pants as he goes. he grabs at the bedside table, snatching the bottle of lube from the drawer. louis' not fucked him properly in ages, gone through a spell where zayn wanted to do the fucking, so he's tighter than he'd like to be. he wants louis in him as soon as possible, squirts some lube on his fingers, then reaches back behind himself to start himself off.

"so sexy when you do that," louis' growling, arousal clear in his voice. he's removed his clothes, pushed himself back up so he's sitting against the headboard, hard cock in his hand. zayn tilts his face back, showing off his jaw, mouth gasping silently as he reaches inside himself. he's putting on a show, positions himself on his knees so that louis has the best look at his fingers, sinking inside, but also his face, his chest heaving, eyelashes fluttering.

"c'mere," louis is jerking his cock, coating it in the lube zayn had tossed to him. "can't wait. go slow."

zayn bites his lip. two fingers in, it's definitely too early, but he can't wait either. he shuffles up the bed, making sure to take the path that rubs his dick up louis' legs. he settles on louis's stomach, the older man's cock hard against the crack of his ass, his lower back. he leans down, searching for louis' lips, needing to kiss him right then, in that moment, more than he needed to do anything else.

"love you," zayn murmurs out, and he adjusts, reaching back to begin the task of entering himself. louis' mouth falls open, unable to speak, but he wraps an arm around him, grabs at zayn's other hand and clasps tight.

zayn half smiles, eyes closing as he sinks slowly, slower, sheathing louis inside of himself. it’s laborious, but it’s vital, and when zayn finds himself settled, seated on louis’ hips, he’s glad he took his time to ease himself into it. still taking his time, he begins to nudge forward, cock inside of him twitching. louis, still sitting against the headboard, is groaning, tightening his hold on zayn, bringing them together so their chests are pressed tight, burying their faces in the other’s neck. zayn begins to move in earnest now, lifting himself up slightly, then lowering down, the tightness making every drag of his cock feel like a bruise, setting his nerve ends on fire.

“so fucking gorgeous,” louis mutters, dark in his ear. zayn preens, and moves just a bit faster, pushes himself down just a bit harder. “love you, love you too.”

the room is hot, so hot, and zayn is moving quickly now, fucking himself good on louis’ rigid cock, soft grunts slipping out of his mouth every time he impales himself. louis is practically writhing, teeth biting at his bottom lip, and he’s jerking his hips up in response, and zayn can tell that he’s trying hard not to come right then and there. zayn appreciates it, wants to finish himself off first, openly selfish and luxuriating in it. he loves getting fucked, loves it as much as he likes doing the fucking; but he’s found that he’s satisfied with practically anything he does with louis.

zayn wraps his arms around louis’ shoulders, using the strength in his thighs and biceps to help him bounce, so fast and so good. louis’ thoughtful enough that he’s grasped in between them, tugging at zayn’s cock, wiping his thumb over the head. it’s too much, zayn thinks, eyes rolling into the back of his head at a particularly deep stroke, riding his way to an orgasm that shoots out of him like he’s not come for weeks.

still surfing on the sensation, he darts forward, mouthing at the base of louis’ neck, biting just hard enough to startle louis, pushing him just over the edge and has him pulsing deep inside of him. louis empties himself, both of them stuttering to a halt, whimpers and moans making way for quiet laughter, satisfied sighs.

"love doing that," louis says, sounding smug. "it's good, yeah?"

"yeah," zayn agrees, hard pressed to think of anything better than that. he carefully lifts himself up, then collapses down on louis' side, sweat pooling on his back and come ready to drip out of him onto louis' sheets. his come is also splattered in between them, having spattered wildly between their chests, but zayn's still in that bubble where he doesn't care. he'll want a cigarette soon; he'll clean up when he gets one.

satisfied, they lie in amiable silence, both of them happy to just wait for their pulses to even out. zayn snuggles closer into louis' side, under his shoulder so louis wraps his arm around him. it's perfect, he thinks, and he never wants to leave this bed.

louis moves first, eventually getting up to grab something to clean them up. zayn should really get up too, hop in the shower and make sure he won't leak on louis and eleanor's bed. but he doesn't, just lays there and lets louis come back and softly wipe up the come from his chest with a damp cloth, kissing his cheekbone as he goes. he hops back into bed a moment later, pack of cigs in his hand, and offers it to zayn.

"you know, i was thinking."

zayn takes one of the cigarettes, puts it between his lips to wait. louis copies his movements, but grabs the lighter from his bedside table to light them up. "that can't be good." he replies, a bit belatedly.

"very funny," louis says, dryly. "well, i mean, i know how you and eleanor have gotten a bit closer. yeah? that's new."

zayn doesn't reply right away. he puts the cigarette to his lips, let's louis light it before he even begins to think of responding. a barely audible voice in his head whispers for him to be careful.

so he just shrugs a bit. it's non-committal; doesn't want to express his ever growing affection for the man's girlfriend, doesn't want to risk what they have for anything.

“i’m not accusing you of anything,” louis assures him, and he’s bouncing his knee impatiently. still hasn’t lit his own cig, just let the box fall to the side. “i think it’s great. always wanted us to be closer.”

zayn snorts at that. “closer? you already got us both in bed. don’t think we could get closer.”

“well, we’re not all in bed, are we?”

zayn pauses. brings the cigarette away from his face, blowing smoke out towards the ceiling before tilting his head to his boyfriend. “what, like the three of us? together?”

“just a thought.” louis says in a sing-song voice, and he grabs the cigarette from his hand, taking a drag. zayn lets him, watches him as he does it, back muscles working as he twists above him. louis’ jawline is littered with stubble, his hair fluffy and wild. zayn wonders, for perhaps the millionth time, how he was lucky enough to get him.

to get him, and to now have him asking him for a threesome with his beautiful girlfriend, if zayn’s not reading this wrong. he doesn’t see what else louis could possibly be meaning by all of this, but he’s been wrong before and he’s leaving room for interpretation in matters this serious.

“i like her, you know.” he admits, after a moment. he glances at louis, to see what his reaction might be. “i really like her.”

"yeah, she’s alright, isn’t she?” louis agrees lightly, but he’s looking at him too, eyes dark and considering.

“i wouldn’t ever, i mean i couldn’t if you didn’t want us to, you know? i wouldn’t do that to you, and if you tell me to fuck off right now i swear i will. i don’t know if you were joking before, but i mean. i’d want to. if she wanted to.” zayn takes a deep breath, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he takes a drag right after in case he says anything more.

louis’ still just watching, an amused expression all too clear. “if i told you that she wanted to,” he says simply. “what would you do about it?”

zayn doesn’t look away from louis when he replies. “i’d ask you.”

the older man laughs, joyful. “ask me what, for permission? i don’t own you. certainly don’t own eleanor, either. i love her, and i love you, and if you two getting together makes you happy, who am i to judge? especially if there’s a possibility of the three of us, one day.”

"you’d really be okay with it?” zayn asks, doubtfully.

“i really would.” louis’ still grinning, but it’s turned soft again. “think you two need a bit of time to yourselves. figure it all out. i’ll still be here either way.”

seemingly done with the conversation, louis leans in one final time, presses a quick peck to zayn’s cheek, then turns over to curl up under the blanket. zayn finishes his cigarette, puts it out on the ashtray on the bedside table. he thinks, and thinks some more. he falls asleep to the sound of louis’ breathing, and he lets himself hope that maybe, if he’s really lucky, he could have them both.

//

it’s weeks later, and they've been there what feels like a million times before, leaning over a night sky in a foreign city, stars twinkling over their silhouettes. they've done this every night since arriving in north america, and there's always that something more, desire burning in the back of their minds, but now they've a chance to act upon it. zayn wants to act upon it. zayn wants to very badly.

she's so beautiful, even only halfway illuminated.

she was beautiful overlooking japan, she's beautiful here, and she's been beautiful every balcony in between. her mouth is slightly open, and she's breathing softly, staring back at him with the same sort of amazed nervousness that zayn currently feels grasping at his lungs.

their shoulders bump, and he takes a drag. louis' inside somewhere, giving them space, giving them time. his blessing hangs in the air. zayn leans in, and does it, does what he's wanted to do for ages.

eleanor's lips are heavy on his, plump and demanding, and she smells like vanilla and he tastes it on his tongue as he inhales her scent.  
they kiss for a moment, chastely, eleanor's left hand coming up to caress his face, but then they split apart. "oh, god," she says, and she sounds wrecked, shaking. "i, i don't know how to do this."

zayn recalls, startled by how rattled she is. "it's okay, we don't have to, we don't have to do anything if you're not alright with it."

"no, no, no," she's running her fingers through her hair quickly, and he's surprised that it does not hurt her. "you've no idea how much i want this. it's just, i've not been with anyone but louis in, what is it, 4 years? never wanted to be with anyone else. i don't know how to--"

understanding blooms in zayn's heart, releases a breath that he hadn't consciously been holding. he'd been sleeping with louis and perrie both for years-- he knows how to give himself to a person sexually, without reservations to the specific identity of the person he's with. he's no longer hung up over monogamy; after breaking up with perrie, he resigned himself to knowing that if he were to take a different partner than just louis, that they would have to be accepting, or at least tolerant of the fact that he wasn't ending things with the older man any time soon. if he went for multiple partners again, it would be in complete honesty. he couldn't hurt someone like he'd hurt his ex-fiancé ever again.

but now, it's eleanor. eleanor, who already knows about his personal life, who has always been supportive of louis and zayn, both as individuals and as a couple. the thought of it makes his head spin, having them both. he wondered if they would want to be together, the three of them. his heart sped up at the thought of it, but he pulled himself together. after all, he did not even know if things with just eleanor would work out.

he wanted it to work out. he hadn't wanted like this in a long time.

"it's okay," zayn assures her. he pulls away, trying to keep himself from trying to kiss her again. "really, we don't have to do anything tonight. s'enough knowing you want to."

under hopeful eyes, "really?"

he smiles. "really. c'mon, lemme finish this," he holds up his cigarette, "then i'll walk you back to louis, if you want."

"thank you. let's just, sit here for a few minutes more, okay?"

//

he fists his cock under the the sheets.

he’s at home. the new home. the home that he doesn’t share with anyone except the pets that perrie would let him keep. it’s just him, and arnie, really. he hadn’t put up much of a fuss; perrie was the one taking care of them, making sure that they were all okay. and he cheated on her. he wasn’t about to steal them away from her. he’d moved out, taken what he could salvage, what he could take without wincing at the memories associated with it. he’d bought new versions of mostly everything. this wouldn’t stay out of the press long. the wedding was off, they were over, and zayn was laying down alone on white silk sheets he’d bought because he wanted to see louis on them. wanted to see eleanor on them.

but he hadn’t seen them in days; hadn’t been with louis for awhile before that. eleanor and louis were doing their own thing, in their own shared home, and no matter what precarious arrangements that they had agreed to on tour, it didn’t mean that he could, or particularly wanted to invade into their bubble of a life together.

so he was fisting his cock under his fucking sheets. eyes closed, teeth clenched, thinking about fucking someone. sliding into their heat, wet and ready for him. the welcoming warmth of a pussy, and the taste of it on his tongue when he ate it out.

god, he wanted to fuck eleanor so bad. he’d kept his promise, that they wouldn’t do anything at all until eleanor was more used to the idea, more than just pliant under her boyfriend’s boyfriend’s wishes, but fully participating, fully willing, no reservations. he wouldn’t have done anything that she wasn’t ready to, and he didn’t want to, knowing that she didn’t. just wished she’d want to.

he jerks himself off, alone, in his empty house, and he thinks about eleanor asking him to fuck her. thinks about her under him, on his pretty silk sheets, and thinks about louis being there too.

//

he doesn’t have to wait long, as it turns out. their break is quick, over before zayn’s really gotten any good relaxing in. he sleeps better when there’s someone in the bed with him. his house is too empty. misses louis every second that they’re gone.

but then they’re back on a plane, back on tour, back to a different hotel. he’s the first on the plane, for once. niall and harry show up next, then liam. louis shows up last, and zayn holds his breath to see if he’s got eleanor coming along with him.

he does.

they sit together, louis in between the two of them. it’s just banter, louis telling a gentle story about bruce chasing after a rabbit and running into a tree. eleanor laughs as he tells it, the memory of it fresh in her eyes, and zayn is mesmerized by the pair of them. louis is vibrant, and energetic, and so fucking beautiful, while eleanor is more calm, more dignified, more responsive. they’re shining, and brilliant, and so bright that it almost hurts his eyes to see them after his few days locked in his dark mansion. he’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be with them. god, he was in love.

about an hour into their flight, louis stands, shuffles off to the bathroom, not looking back to see if either his girlfriend or his boyfriend would follow him. zayn watches him go for a moment, watches the curve of his ass, the strength of his back muscles, but he’s very quickly gone, and then it’s just him and eleanor with an empty seat in between them.

they’re quiet for a moment, energy crackling between them that had been conjured out of nowhere. eleanor smiles at the tv screen in front of them.

“have a good break?” she asks, sounding nonchalant.

“yeah,” he replies, clearing his throat. “and you?”

she chuckles. “thought about you a lot.” her voice drops, low, seductive. zayn tilts his head to look at her. surprised at her quick change in mood, but she’s still looking ahead. “wanna give it another go when we land?”

the bathroom door opens across the airplane. louis saunters over, stopping to say something to niall, who laughs loudly. he looks over at the two of them, eyebrows raised as if to say, “well?”

“yeah. suppose i do.”

//

she kisses like he’d hoped she would. kisses like the rain, quick and sweet and dancing and tasting like recycled oceans on his lips. and it’s okay, the lightness, for the first few minutes, it’s necessary, because he can’t dive right in. he slowly immerses himself, wading deeper and deeper into her, droplets turning into rainstorms.

it’s hot, so fucking hot, when she moves first, when she moves from sitting beneath him in his hotel room and letting his body cloak hers, to straddling his lap. she’s done this before, he’s seen her do this before to louis, and that somehow makes it so much better, knowing that this is a practiced move, that she’s bestowed the same pleasure onto the man he loves.

he’ll later reflect that this was probably the moment that he knew for certain that he could fully love them both, all of the lingering doubts falling away. but nothing but the feeling of eleanor legs around his waist mattered to him then.

she kisses like she never wants to stop, and zayn wants to bang his hands on the sofa cushions in ecstasy, but he doesn’t want to startle her, do anything to make her stop drinking him in. he can feel her hands on his cheeks, long fingers stroking his stubble, down his jawline and to his neck. she fingers at the buttons at his collar, and he licks into her mouth when she starts to undo it.

she pulls away. “can we?” she asks, and her eyes are black, pupils blown way out.

“god, yes.” he replies.

suddenly they’re a rush of blurring limbs, bodies desperately trying to free themselves of their clothing. zayn keeps his pants on, still leaving that bit of room for doubt, still trying to let her know that it’s okay if she doesn’t want to yet. his cock is freed from the tight constraint of his jeans, but is still covered in the soft cotton of his underwear.

eleanor had stood up to remove her clothes. she stands in front of him, and she’s wearing nothing except for her bra and panties. they’re not sex panties, not fancy, not lacy. she’s wearing calvins and a worn looking black bra, and zayn’s mouth is watering. the last woman he had sex with was perrie, and he can’t help but make the little comparisons. perrie’s more filled out, thin, but with a curvier body, fuller breasts. eleanor’s slight, almost painfully so, bony hips and soft looking ribs.

perrie also shaved completely. eleanor pushes down her underwear and she’s trimmed, but definitely not bald.

she’s still wearing her bra, calvins pooled around her ankles. “can i eat you out?” he asks, all he can think to ask. she grins, nods, and then sinks down to the floor. she pulls him down with her.  
she lays down on her back, her hair thrown back behind her head, fanning out behind her. she’s got her knees together, but she opens her legs easily when he approaches, littering kisses to her kneecaps, to the freckle she’s got on her inner thigh. she’s watching him, biting her lip, anticipating his touch. she smells amazing, smells clean, smells good enough to eat, and he does. he lowers his mouth, and her head falls back as he starts.

starts slow, grips onto her thighs. kisses at her lips, nudging between and licking softly, teasing, before he finally moves to her clit. she’s wet, glistening, and he moves lower to taste it, dripping from her core. she makes a sound when he licks a long stripe back up and starts to get into it, finding her clit again and swirling his tongue around. he’s good at eating pussy, knows how to do it, knows how to hold onto her hips when he digs in, licking deeply, getting his whole face involved. she tastes so sweet, he wants it all, wants to remember every second of eating her out for the first time, wants to savour every single moment that she quivers, when her thighs close around him, trying to pull him deeper in. but he wants to finish her off, wants to make her come before he even thinks about coming himself. needs to make her come, needs this to be good for her.

he’s got his right arm hooked around her leg, index and middle finger rubbing at her clit, moving as quickly as his tongue, gobbling her down. she’s breathy, twisting her arms, arching her back, and zayn wants her so bad, can’t believe this is happening and--

“w-wait,” she gasps, and he doesn’t want to stop but he does. glad he does. “want to come, want you inside of me.”

his face feels hot, heated from being buried in pussy. “ok, i need--”

she’s already moving, reaching for her purse, tossed earlier on the couch they’d started on. she digs inside, pulls out a packet. “here.” she rips it open, “louis told me your size.”

he laughs, takes it, and pushes his boxers off. his cock is painfully hard from being ignored, aroused from just eating her. she eyes him, watches as he puts the condom on, hungry looking. she’s leaned back on her elbows, the carpet probably bad on her delicate skin, but her legs are wide open and it’s a beautiful thing. life changing, really.

he maneuvers slowly, slowly enough that she reaches forward, tugging him toward her. he’s got a grip on his cock, guiding it home, and he wants to cry when he finally begins to penetrate her, sinking inside of her wetness with ease. the noise she makes echoes in his head, bouncing around the suddenly empty expanse between his ears, because this is all he could possibly ever think about. eleanor's legs wrap around him as he gets deeper, and she's begging him to go faster, as close as she was to coming. her hand is on her clit, and she's looking up at him pleadingly.

so he moves, puts chasing his own pleasure on hold, because he's got this girl under him who is leaning her head back, exposing her long neck every time he pushes back into her. her fingers move quickly on her clit, driving her to completion, and zayn braces himself on his hands, and drives in harder. faster. deep, deep, bruising strokes, making his back ache, but he doesn't stop. the carpet under his hands and knees rubs at him, chafing, and it must be worse for eleanor, but he ignores it. he darts down, licking at her neck, kissing her throat, panting at her ear. he sucks right between her collar bones, and the mark shows up quickly on her pale skin.

"i'm coming," she says, and it surprises him, "don't stop."

so he doesn't, couldn't, and he feels eleanor's legs tighten behind his back, feels her hands pinching at his sides, and feels her walls clench at his cock. she lets out a great moan, halfway between a sigh, and she gasps through it. seeing her mouth wide open, feeling her body quaking from orgasm is so fucking sexy.

"fuck," he's practically whimpering, "i'm gonna--" and then he can't speak because he's shuddering, last few shaking thrusts as comes spectacularly, eleanor lying placidly under him. he comes while inside of her, but he's still got the condom on.

he rolls over, a smile on his lips. they lay on the white carpet together, and he doesn't look but he can tell that she's smiling too. they smile at the ceiling, together.

//

when they're finished and presentable again they go wandering the hotel for their friends. they find louis and niall in harry's room, having stolen all of the younger boy's keycards, effectively banning him from his own room.

niall pays no attention to their arrival; is on facetime with whichever girl that he's been trying to get with. zayn checks to make sure he doesn't recognize her, but then quickly loses interest. always checks, though. remembers the time he looked and it was ellie goulding.

louis, on the other hand, perks right up. he's got his reading glasses on, perched cheerfully on the bed, one of zayn's comic books open on his lap.  
his eyes narrow, and he looks them both up and down. zayn feels somewhat uncomfortable under the appraisal. doesn't know how louis will really react, because no matter how many times louis had said they should do this, there was still no telling what he'd do once it actually happened. louis is volatile and self destructive at the very best of times.

"hm," he tuts, looking to zayn. "you done fucking my girlfriend, then?"

zayn blushes. louis' face erupts into a bright, pleased smirk. loves making zayn blush.

//

eleanor flies off back to london not soon after, some plans with friends that have been on hold for months. reservations to be kept, or so she keeps telling them as she packs her stuff. they rarely leave each other's presence these days, only dividing up when they go to sleep.

they spend all their time together, but they've never crossed that line. the one that's drawn between an open relationship, and a polyamorous one. zayn thinks that it'd be okay, knows that it's something that they all want, but he's just not sure how to approach the subject. so they fuck, one on one, ignoring them fucking each other one on one.

they both take her to the airport, the three of them sat in the back of the car with the black tinted windows. she leans over to kiss zayn first, then kisses louis right after. zayn sees her whisper something to louis as she leaves, a puff of air against the older man’s cheek that has zayn jealous of the warmth it would have left. then she’s gone, and alberto is giving them a strange look from the front seat.

louis’ smiling, and eleanor sends zayn a heart emoji a few moments later, and they’re all going to be okay.

//

he eventually gets called into a meeting. knew that he would eventually. didn’t know that perrie would be there, when he walked in. they’re in asia, and he stops dead in the doorway when he sees her. didn’t expect to see her. she’s not looking at him, she’s looking at the table in front of her. she looks beautiful, and she looks angry, but she doesn’t look sad. he’s glad about that, at least.

“hi.” he doesn’t know what to say. when they’d asked for him to come in, louis offered to accompany him. he’s glad that he declined the offer. couldn’t imagine looking her in the eye with louis at his side.

“please, sit down.” says richard, and he’s smiling at him, the only bright looking face in the room.  
richard’s got a plastic smile and a stack of papers full of plastic words that say that perrie edwards and zayn malik don’t love each other anymore, but that they won’t try and ruin anyone’s career because of it.

zayn feels sick, feels like throwing up as he’s offered a pen and asked to sign away a relationship that he has, for all intents and purposes, singlehandedly destroyed and tossed to the side. perrie signs. she signs without hesitation.

he clenches the pen in his hand. “were you… did they fly you here?” looks to the side of her face, because when she looks up at him for the first time since he entered the room, he can’t quite look at her.

“yes.” she snaps. zayn swallows. he cheated on her, and then they made her fly all the way out here to sign this. it’s not fair to her. he’s so fucking sorry.

he signs the papers. he would never say a word against her, anyways.

//

he stops to smoke a fag on the way back to his room. he's left his cigs with louis, so it's a few minutes before he can make it up.

perrie is there when he shows up. he doesn't know how she got up there, doesn't know who let her in. doesn't care.

"pez." he can't contain the surprise in his voice. he's still holding his box of cigs, nicked from louis while he played fifa with harry and niall, halfway through pulling one out for the balcony. he squeezes the box nervously.

"stop calling me that, will ya?" she doesn't sound angry. "just here to give back your ring."

"oh." he hadn't even known that she hadn't returned it yet. he'd assumed that she'd given it back when she'd come for all of her things. that if he went through the boxes he'd been allowed that he'd find the diamond ring he'd bought her.  
he didn't really want it back. what was he going to do with it?

"look, pez-- perrie." he corrects himself, moving closer to her. "i'm so sorry, again. i miss you." he doesn't know why he says it, knows the sentiment will feel like venom, but he still says it. doesn't want to lie to her anymore. 

she looks at him, and for once he meets her gaze. there’s a forced resignation in her eyes, something like disappointment and a touch of revulsion. they’d been together for a long time, and whether he liked it or not he could pinpoint the emotions that were swirling on her face. she hated him.

“no,” she says, and it’s firm, like she were talking to a small child. “i don’t want to hear it.” she clears her throat. enunciates. “you humiliated me, in front of the whole bloody world. i don’t want to hear that you’re sorry. i just want to be done with it so i can move on. just, stop.”

he swallows. nods. it’s the least he can do.  
she places the ring on the table directly to his left. he watches, without saying a word, moving aside to let her by after she retracts her hand, as if setting it down had burned her. her jaw clenches, but her shoulders relax. he hears her take a deep breath, and sees her eyelashes flutter shut for a very brief moment.

she’s so sad, and so, so beautiful. but just before she starts to leave, she opens her eyes, and tilts her head towards him. there’s a tear on her cheek, and the ghost of a smile on her face.

“goodbye, zayn. i hope you three are very happy together.”

and with that, she’s gone, and he knows that she’s gone forever. his heart breaks anew, the thudding in his chest reminding him with every beat of what he had done, and what it had cost him. but it’s bittersweet, because while he had loved her, and while she had loved him, they were better this way. she would find someone, or maybe she already had, and she would be okay.

he picks up the ring on the table beside him. looks at it, twisting it between his fingers. it’s still warm from her touch. he sets it back down, and checks the time.

when they check out of the hotel, he leaves the ring there; a tip for the cleaning staff. he doesn’t need it anymore, and that’s okay.

//

louis stays over in dubai for longer than any of the rest of them-- staying until they’re well into april. zayn flies back to london without him, and isn’t sure where he’s meant to go. sure, he and eleanor have shared a bed, shared a room together when they’re on tour, but that’s always been with louis in between them, ensuring consistent comfort.

he drops his things off at his temporary home first anyway. the whiteness of the walls depresses him. it’s boring. everything there is boring. he goes to eleanor and louis’.

eleanor’s not home when he arrives, and he lets himself inside after a quick text to el to see if it’s okay. she’s not got a problem with it, rather seems very excited to hear that he would be there when she got back. she’d taken bruce out for a long walk round with her friends then was dropping him at the groomers, but she’d be on her way soon. he makes himself at home. he likes their place. it feels lived in. feels like a lot of thought went into the decor, a bit cluttered and messy enough that it doesn’t feel like his used to when they’d get back from tour to find nothing waiting for him.

and they’ve got this fireplace-- this enormous black fireplace, modern and sleek and with a gorgeous plush rug thrown across the floor in front of it. zayn slips out of his shoes, and he finds himself laying down on top of the plush, waiting for eleanor to get back from wherever she is. he dozes off on it, phone loose in his hand, sinking into this lovely rug, feeling more comfortable than he has in years with the heat of the fire he started keeping him warm.

he wakes to hear eleanor just getting home, laughing loudly, bags rustling. zayn doesn't open his eyes, even when he hears a voice that isn't recognizable talking too. he's far too comfortable to worry about what others will think about zayn spending too much time with his best friend's girlfriend.

"oh, look at him. thinks he owns the place, don't he?" eleanor's voice is closer now, amusement heavy in her words, and zayn cracks an eye open to see her leaning on the doorframe, a tall man with long brown hair standing beside her.

"hi," zayn says, voice cracking a bit with sleep from his nap. he doesn't recognize the person with her, though he's sure that he probably should. he's standing very close to her, and zayn pushes back a wave of jealousy. she's not his to begin with.

"hi." eleanor grins, smile practically blinding. god he missed her.

zayn sits up then, just as eleanor turns away, walking back out of the room with her friend tagging along. he wipes at his eyes, checks his phone, and he listens to the sounds of eleanor's friend departing. he waits, patiently, for her to return, which takes a few minutes, but when she does she's wearing just a white shirt, cut off to show off her belly and fun little gym shorts. zayn's eyes watch her as she approaches, drinking her in, making his pants feel tighter.

"should’ve told me you were coming back earlier," she says, and she sits down on the carpet beside him, but not before grabbing the thick pillows from the couches behind them. "would have had something planned for you. always do something for louis when he comes back."

"this is perfect," he replies honestly, grabbing her hand. she hadn't turned on any lights when she came in, and she was only illuminated by the fire and the remaining sunlight that barely penetrated the curtains of the room. she looked so beautiful. he wanted her badly. he tells her that.

her grin is back, something a lot more dirty than before. he can see where louis has slipped his way into her actions, the impish light in her eyes as she throws one long, slender leg over his body, straddling him and kissing him deeply. her tongue presses at his lips, and he's wryly amused at her eagerness, happy that he's not the only one who wants this.

the fire crackles beside them, heating their bodies as they lose the bit of clothing that they do have on. eleanor's in charge here, on her territory, and she controls the speed of which she eventually sinks down onto his dick, riding him with her mouth wide open, getting herself off on him. all zayn can do is lay there, hands loose on her hips and hold on for dear life.  
he thinks he can feel his orgasm about to come when his phone starts vibrating, discarded on the carpet beside his face. he turns his head from eleanor's hypnotically bouncing boobs, and sees louis' face lighting up his screen. facetiming.

eleanor sees it too, and she stops in her riding to reach out and grab his phone.  
she answers it.

"hello, love," she purrs, grinding down and twisting him inside of her. zayn moans, biting his lip as best he can. "i'm about to make your boyfriend come."

"fuck." zayn hears louis reply, and then eleanor's turning the phone so he can see louis on the screen, eyes wide and hungry.

"say hello, zayn." eleanor chastised. hot when she tells him what to do.

"hi louis." he smiles, a rather strained chuckle escaping his lips. "you coming home soon?"

"i am now. next fucking plane to london. you close?"

zayn nods, finds the words hard to form as eleanor places the phone in his hands and starts to ride him again with renewed fervour.

"sick, let me see her. pull her hair a bit, she loves that."

zayn puts flips the camera angle, letting louis watch his girlfriend fuck herself on him. zayn does what louis suggests, and she gets louder, whining and calling out both their names. it makes it even harder to keep himself from coming, but he tries desperately to hang on, to let her come first.

louis' watching with an almost reverence on the iphone, eyes glued and zayn can't see but he knows his hands are thrust down his pants.

eleanor gets breathier when she's about to come, he's noticed. volume goes down, moans giving way to whimpers, rasped out through the back of her throat. her head lolls back when she comes, and he can feel the tremor that goes through her body, tightening around him. he's pleased, and he waits, waits for her body to stop convulsing, because he's not rude and he's not going to rush her just after she's hit her climax. but he's really desperate now, egged on by her tight pussy around him, by louis' enraptured expression. the older man is jerking himself off, he can tell, and zayn wishes that he were there. or louis were here. it didn't matter, really, anywhere that the three of them could be doing this together would be excellent.

eleanor catches her breath, eyes half closed with a look of sleepy satisfaction. she wiggles, hoisting herself off of his dick, to his great distress. he makes a noise, embarrassing close to a wail of anguish, and she laughs up at him as she shimmies her way down so her face was hovering over him.

"mm, think i should give myself a taste, lou?" she murmurs, and one small hand creeps up to rub at his inner thigh, behind his balls.

"yes." louis hisses the 's' through his teeth, movement on the bottom of the screen hinting at how furiously fast his hands are moving.

"want me to, zaynie?" she peers up at him, mouth just hovering over his dick. all he can do is nod.

her mouth feels just as good as her pussy had, and zayn knows for certain that he's not going to last long.

he doesn't.

//

louis rushes back from dubai, as promised. the two of them go to pick him up from the airport, in one of louis’ car, a big tinted rover. eleanor sits in the front seat on the way there, bruce in the back. zayn keeps a hand on her thigh the whole way. (“oi,” louis will say grinning, after he gets in the backseat while fending bruce off. “hands on the ten and two, mate, and off me girlfriend.”)

louis is tired from the flight, much to eleanor and zayn’s disappointment. louis’s immediately in bed as soon as they return, eleanor trailing behind, pouting. zayn moves to give them room, not wanting to intrude on time between just the two of them, but louis calls him back before he’s even reached the door to their bedroom.

the four of them cuddle up to sleep that night. louis, zayn, eleanor, and bruce. fall asleep that way every other night that week, too. starts to feel like home.

//

louis, zayn and eleanor are all vastly different people. when zayn had initially been put into the band on x-factor, and he had looked at the four boys around him, he never would have expected to get along so well with louis. louis was loud and obnoxious, never shut the hell up, and wouldn’t stop intentionally riling liam up. and louis would grow and zayn would too, but the soft, delicate feelings that dwelled in zayn’s chest didn’t change the fact that louis was still a loud and obnoxious clown, who does not only go into everything unprepared, but actually sprints into the unknown with no thought of the consequences whatsoever. that was just who louis was.

and then eleanor came around, and eleanor and zayn were a lot more alike than zayn and louis, but there were still differences. while both a lot more quiet and serious (at least in comparison to their boyfriend), eleanor was still a lot more open and joyful. there was a subdued nervousness in zayn, one that could only come from being a brown person thrust into the spotlight that affected his actions in everyday life. neither eleanor nor louis, both being white, could ever empathize.

and zayn was a planner. he always knew, to a degree, what he wanted to do, and how he was going to go about getting it. the only time where he did not necessarily know what to expect was when louis was involved. eleanor was the same; although she could be coerced more easily into things, was more than willing to be swept up into whatever was happening, especially when it came to matters of the heart. eleanor wore hers on her sleeve, giving it out openly and freely to anyone who might ask of it.

he was a planner. he knew what he wanted. but he, like eleanor, like he had for countless other experiences in his life, could never truly plan for what life and louis would throw his way.

with that in mind, zayn really could not have been surprised when the final barrier in their blossoming relationship would be torn down when he least expected it. he’s unprepared, when the door to their rented house in la opens and it’s eleanor, while he’s got louis’ strong, sun-kissed body strewn across his legs, twisting up to kiss at his neck. they're in la for work, sort of, blurs of studios and writing on patios with the sun beating down on their heads. but it's relaxed, half the material written they know won't ever be released, with their break looming. harry and liam still talk about falsettos, whole zayn and louis sneaking away often to get off. they'd invited eleanor to the house they were renting, but she'd declined, wanting to spend time at home with bruce.

so he watches as the woman enters, eyes wary of what she will do, knowing objectively that she’ll join them, not wanting to hope in case she doesn’t. he isn't even surprised to see her.

and she does, because louis’ gesturing for her to join, and she’s shed her white blouse onto the floor to reveal something lacy and tantalizing and zayn’s cock makes itself known. he and louis are already naked, having gone for round one not even an hour earlier, just lazing around in bed and making out since.

louis sits up, reaching out for his girlfriend, kissing her softly, serenely, drinking her in. she doesn’t say a word, just lets herself get pulled into the warmth of their bed, lets louis kiss her before she crawls over to kiss zayn.

her lips taste like peppermint. she’s a different flavour each time he tastes her, and he just wants her mouth on him.

she obliges, moving down his body, taking him into her mouth without being asked. louis moves in, wanting in on it, but it’s to zayn’s nipples that he goes first, biting and pinching in a way that makes zayn’s hips twitch, rudely bucking into eleanor.

but he knows that she’s into it; she grips onto his hips with her long fingers, and she takes him in that much deeper, swallowing him down her throat. zayn moans, watching her nose inch down, and he’s got his hands fisted in both their hair, pulling her head down closer, and pushing louis’ down to join her.

and then he’s in heaven, because louis gets real into it too, into the act of sharing zayn’s cock between them. he pulls zayn’s knee to the side gently, so his legs are spread open, and he dips his head in as close to eleanor as he can manage without knocking her out of the picture. she’s still got zayn’s cock in her mouth, sucking with vigor, but she moves to the tip so that louis can get a taste of him too. eleanor shimmies to the right, so that louis’ got the space to maneuver lower, to get at zayn’s sensitive balls.

the sight of them, between his knees, their heads bobbing up and down as eleanor sucks his head and louis at the base of his shaft and suckling at his balls is beyond what zayn could ever describe in words. they look so fucking gorgeous, their mouths full of his cock, sharing him better than he could ever imagine. he loves them so much, loves eleanor’s lips and louis’ clever hands rubbing down his sides and down to finger him open, loves them loves them loves them. eleanor’s rubbing at her clit, and louis’ rutting into the bed below them, but they’re both determined to get zayn off, both greedy for his orgasm to come.

zayn can only oblige, feeling like his body has been set on fire. he’d had a threesome before, with giggling girls who’d been to their shows when they were just starting out as a band, but it hadn’t been like this. their combined efforts brought him close, but the roaring in his ears as he came wildly and without abandon came not from the pleasure, but from an overwhelming warmth in his chest. he loved them, loved them both, so, so much, that he could not imagine that his heart had ever felt empty, that he had ever been at a loss for the endless and immeasurable love that inhabited every trace of him. every strand of his dna was altered by it, reborn into a man who never had been lonely, never spent a night hiding himself in shadows with towels stuffed under door frames.

he came, and the tears that welled up in his eyes were embarrassing but he didn’t care. he pulled louis up to level and kissed him, then did the same to eleanor. his boyfriend. his girlfriend. they smiled at him, louis wiping away the tears from his eyes. “love you,” they murmured, and zayn wasn’t sure if it was louis, or eleanor, or himself that had said it. they had a moment, letting zayn come back down to earth from where he’d been soaring in the heavens, and then they were whole again. zayn slipped down, twisting forward between eleanor’s legs, pushing panties to the side and attaching his mouth to her wetness. louis moved behind him, kissing at his hips, his lower back, his thighs, then up again, lube grabbed and dribbled onto his fingers to open the younger man up for him.

zayn knew he’d never be lonely again.

//

they go on their break, five boys hopping on airplanes, the feeling of the last day of school heavy in the air. they say their good byes, hugs exchanged, because they're not sure when they'll see each other again. not sure if they'll tour together ever again. but it's okay. 

zayn's first single goes to #1 on billboard. harry's does too, a few months later. 

zayn puts his empty white house back on the market. doesn’t need it.

//

zayn wakes up first-- a rarity.

the windows are wide and the curtains thrown open. even the air in france tastes sweeter, a taste of summer day to come drifting in on the breeze.

he's never been more satisfied in his decision to invest in a villa. it's prime real estate, but it's not so much of a sound business idea than it is finding the most luxurious spot in corsica to have sex with his partners in.

he sits up, after waking up gradually, the sound of the ocean luring him out of bed. he looks at the bodies strewn across their custom-sized bed. their thin sheets only cover up half of their bodies, concealing louis' bum as he dozes on his stomach. eleanor's only got one leg under, hipbone in the air and hand across her forehead.

zayn kisses them both as he stands, quick pecks wherever he can reach, before he makes his way out to go stand in the sun.

it's bright.

his phone is beeping from somewhere inside the room-- or maybe it's louis', or maybe it's eleanor's, he's got no idea-- and there's a sense of surreality that surrounds him. the sun is shining. the air is warm. his skin is hot from being pressed against the bodies of his lovers, hot from the sleep that pressed on his eyelids still. got a tune stuck in his head, a riff from a song he wrote for his album. louis had helped figured out the bridge.

none of this is real, he thinks to himself, looking out at the water. none of it. he'll blink and it will be gone.

he tries it. closes his eyes. he'll be okay if it isn't real, though the knowledge of the inherent rightness of his life now permeates to his core. darkness, but the red light still shines, and the french air is still french. opens them again, and turns around. 

his lovers are stirring. louis always wakes up all at once, as if while sleeping he'd just been waiting to get back up again. he leans back on his elbows, hair ruffled adorably, squinting pale blue eyes settling on zayn leaning in the archway to the balcony.

eleanor wakes up slowly, luxuriously. her return to consciousness if a gift she is bestowing upon the world, and zayn feels very blessed. zayn wants to kiss the back of her neck, exposed by the hair she's got thrown over her pillow.

she smiles before she looks at either of them. "morning," she croaks, voice cracked from sleep and from being fucked hours before.

"morning." zayn croaks in return, hoarse for the very same reasons. louis is already getting up, halfway out of bed but eleanor's pulling at his leg with one loose hand. he smoothly turns back, changing his mind about getting up as quickly as he had decided to.

"you get over here too," louis gestures for him to join them, quick little hand ferocious in his sudden impatience. zayn can see louis' cock, picked up with interest and morning. the older man takes zayn's coveted spot at the back of eleanor's neck, and zayn watches for a moment as louis wraps his body around her.

he turns back to the skyline. it's bright, and gorgeous, and he's sure that none of it is real. blink and you'll miss it.

he turns back into the room, back to louis, back to eleanor. this is real, he thinks, as he makes his way into their bed.

//


End file.
